Between War & Peace

The screams were loud but I learnt a method to deal with them. The blood was everywhere but I now saw them as art. The pain was like a bullet wound to the chest but that's why you walk around like a corpse. To not feel guilt, remorse or even anything. The one thing they warned us against was love. Love would wreck away the stench of a corpse and bring back the colour of being human. Michael always said leave that at home. Leave that in the bed of your wife, for that is the only place where dreams could be achieved.

Where dreams could find the simple term of peace to exist because tomorrow there would always be a battle waiting for you. a war surprising you. that would be me, Guerra, war. When my dad named me, they were a simple village being overtaken...my dad's people were at war with them. A horrible war that ended up with my mom going into labour with me while people fought outside her hut to protect her...to protect me.

Ever since then I was trained to win wars and not once have I lost. I've had to take it brutally and without a pinch of remorse, the first couple of times of this scenery, I felt it and whenever I got back home my dad would say you lost. I would try to fight and say I have victory by dropping the head of the king of that clan on the ground, he would say 'the biggest war, is yourself. Lose yourself and you will find yourself winning more with not even you holding you back.' So ever since I've become more cold, more heartless and harder to mate with. I don't call it love. I call it mating because I only want one thing and that is an heir.

Nothing more but I haven't found her yet. The thing about mating is that you can only have a true heir with the one you are aligned with and I say this with the utmost tinge of respect in me. None of the females within the territory have given me a reason to bat an eyelid of interest to them except to either roll my eyes or to give a command to them. Even then I can inflict any amount of pain unto them and not be remorseful whatsoever.

Mom says when she comes, she will be the first to know and she will make me bow. She will care for me in ways that even though I don't deserve it, it will feel like a must to her. To sacrifice herself more than she needs to. Mom says that love...will be the only thing that leads. Anyway, I'm going to say this now I laughed so hard my dad knocked some sense into me. No woman could ever nor will ever make me submit to love but I will find her...just so that she can bare me an heir. Then I will slit her throat.

"How many fallen?" father asked as he walked towards me with a smirk on his face. Surely satisfied with another victory. He asked for 3 overtakes in a month I gave him 6.

"Two hundred and forty-six." I said disgusted that not many people stayed in such a huge place.

"How many of our man lost?"

"twenty-two."

"Wounded?"

"Twelve."

"How many men have they lost?"

"twenty."

He 'tsked' with disappointment.

"Kill two more to even the odds."

"How many of them are wounded?"

"seventeen."

"Good." He said as he turned to look at the scenery before us. My father' wasn't like the rest of the old soldiers, he took pride in still being healthy enough to join the fight. His impressive height and body build would distract you from wanting to know his age. Fifty-six. 6.6 ft. 335 pounds of pure muscle and dark brown eyes that could suck you in. he not once avoided a fight or confrontation that was deemed necessary. Not once did he miss war and though many of his old friends would come and go, he never failed to continue. Michael Guerre Edson. My mom is fifty-two, 5.2 ft, light green eyes and is more of an analyst. She's more down to earth, sensible and prefers to protect. Don't let that fool you though, my father fell for a woman who could fight. Despite seeming like a kind woman...she knew exactly how to kill. Father says time they met, she had tried to kill him because he tried to hunt on her family grounds. Had it not been for that one miss...he would have been dead.

"I need a grandson." He said as he turned to look at me with annoyance.

"You're not dead yet." I grumbled.

"No I'm not but your 25 and have not charmed a woman into your bed. You lay with flees and assume you will not get up with fleas. You will not get an heir from these one-nighters. You must find your mate. Or the stars help me I will tie you up to the bed and let your mothers choice take you."

I sighed heavily with annoyance. "For goodness sake I'm young I still want to enjoy my life. I haven't even taken over this country yet. I want it all."

"I fear for once in my life that I've raised you with too much hunger for power. I hope your mate is a fighter and wounds you beyond repairs. Cause if she doesn't I will."

"I will slit her throat if she does. Father, you have three sons and a daughter. Andrew is running a different tribe with two sons, Boyd is doing the same with four sons and a daughter, Alice is with mother and she's 21. She's already mated, have you not thought that maybe the stars have not aligned me with a woman. Maybe I've been sentenced for battle and retirement."

"Then Guerra, you're sentenced to die sooner than all of us." He murmured as he walked away.

Looking at the scene I wondered why I was suddenly pressured to produce an heir I was his last son. A woman was not my priority and if I find her I would slit her throat anyway.